Texas Christian University

I grew up in a refugee camp called May-Ayni, one of four such camps in Tigray, Ethiopia.

I am one of the lucky ones who made it out.

I have seen things that forever changed me. Many people in the camp fled from Eritrea. People arrive at those refugee camps for many reasons, but the common reason at May-Ayni was the Eritrean dictator, Isaias Afwerki.

Eritrean citizens have no freedom; if they try to protest or say anything bad about the government, they will go to jail and live in inhumane conditions or even be tortured. They cannot so much as voice an opinion, so many people leave. Kids as young as 8 sometimes cross the border all by themselves to reach the camps, where people wait a month for basic rations.

The refugee camps are not the best, but they are at least safe. Most of the houses are made of mud; imagine what happens when the rain comes. People who had a little money would build their houses with bricks. This building technique piqued my interest in education and then engineering.

I want to go back to the community and give back to my people, who are suffering. May-Ayni was home to me. Growing up in a place like that helped me figure out my WHY in life. I have an opportunity most of my people did not get. I am going to use this chance to become a person who will give back. This is what matters to me.

On May 26, 2020, I saved a stranger's life.

While at a gas station parking lot on a summer afternoon, I noticed a dented, brown Buick surrounded by three men acting strangely. As a woman, I have been taught to be aware of my surroundings. I put the fuel pump in my car, returned to my seat and locked the doors. Once my tank was filled, I replaced the pump. As I was about to leave the station, I stopped cold and did a double take. On the ground next to the car was an unconscious man.

My heart sank, and I got out of the car. Maintaining distance due to the pandemic, I asked the men if they knew how to perform CPR. They did not.

In 2018, I had been certified to do CPR, but I struggled to remember the details. No practice simulation compares to a real life-or-death situation.

One man was on the phone with a 911 operator while the other was attempting CPR. His technique was wrong. I sang "Stayin' Alive" to demonstrate the proper rhythm for compressions to no avail. As the unconscious man turned greenish-yellow, I knew I had to act.

Kneeling over the lifeless man, I searched for a nonexistent pulse. I started chest compressions and ordered one of the men to give mouth to mouth on my count. After multiple rounds of compressions, I remembered an essential part of CPR and instructed someone to open the man's airway.

Almost instantly, the unconscious man's eyes came to life. He started coughing and regained consciousness. The sight was indescribable. After the paramedics arrived, they explained that the man went into cardiac arrest due to a drug overdose.

I had made a judgment call that ended positively. Though hesitant at first, I had felt pressure to do the right thing, which pushed me to recall my CPR training, to step out of my comfort zone. Those decisions saved someone's life.

This experience changed my perspective on pressure: It is a motivator, not something to be feared. I learned that I can perform at my peak when under duress, and this knowledge has helped me overcome challenges. I have improved my grades; I am able to think on my feet, and I am resourceful during complicated situations. I'm certain I will thrive in college because I now know how to respond when confronted with pressure. I see it as an opportunity to do better.

Last year, a conversation with my cousin led to my taking a 3,218-mile bike ride across the United States.

My cousin and I were talking about doing something different and interesting over summer vacation. A few weeks later, I signed up for the American Challenge bike trip and started training.

Last June, I left Tybee Island, Georgia, with 13 strangers for a 3,218-mile bike trip that would end in August in Santa Monica, California. Those six weeks would challenge me mentally and physically in ways I could not have imagined. During 11 of those summer days, my group rode more than 100 miles. Carrying 60 pounds of gear, we climbed an 11,000-foot peak in the Rocky Mountains and rode 220 miles through the Mojave Desert.

I used the trip to raise money for a nonprofit called Total Ministries, which assists families in need in my hometown of Spartanburg, South Carolina. My parents wrote me midway through the ride to say we had raised $20,000 in pledges. Total Ministries was going to use the money for rental assistance for families in need.

I then understood that my bike trip would help a lot of people. I was motivated to finish the trip no matter how hard the ride became. In the Mojave, a support van trailed us for three days because the temperature was 121 degrees. Almost everyone in the group got in the van, but I pressed on.

I didn't want to tell the people at Total Ministries that I had almost biked across America. I wanted to ride every single mile for the families who needed help. Arriving at the Santa Monica Pier to swim in the Pacific Ocean on the final day was an awesome feeling.

The American Challenge bike trip taught me two things: First, I can do anything if I focus on my goals. Second: A person can make a real difference in the lives of others. I ended up raising more than $30,000 for Total Ministries. That money helped more than 50 families stay in their homes.